


S_єяρєη-т

by xXPaintedSmilesXx



Category: Hannibal (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV), Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV), Angst with a Happy Ending, Bascially everyone loves Castiel, Castiel Goes To School, Castiel Learns to be Human, Castiel is Not Innocent, Castiel is Not Okay, Castiel is a Good Friend, Dark Castiel, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Hannibal (TV) References, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Human Castiel, Implied Relationships, Jack Crawford Being an Asshole, M/M, Manipulative Castiel, POV Castiel, Someone Help Will Graham, Will Graham & Castiel Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXPaintedSmilesXx/pseuds/xXPaintedSmilesXx
Summary: A  H A N N I B A L / S U P E R N A T U R A L  C R O S S O V E R-As night settled in the town, Castiel dreamt of the taste of blood, the smell of skin, and the sound of screams. And the serpent watched from under the covers, never leaving its place in the belly of this beast.





	1. [ p a r t  o n e ]

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on AO3, so please leave kudos and comment if you enjoy! Basically, I wrote this because I was really interested in the Hannibal/Supernatural tag on AO3, but when I clicked it, it was just crack stuff. It was kind of disappointing. I needed some angst. So I wrote this, and it’s very angsty. Good luck!

[ p a r t  o n e ]

The air was chilly. Cars were slower as well as the people inside them. The arms of trees hung lower, nearly scraping the snow off the ground with their bare fingers, creating little scars in the sheets that would soon enough fade back into white as the frozen droplets continued to pile. The shadows lurking behind every person that dared to walk in the current weather became more transparent as the sun's light was blocked by the grey coat of winter. Castiel had been driving through many miles of vast land. He had seen the beautiful mutation of his surroundings as he continued north of Georgia into South and then North Carolina and into Virginia. He watched the day dissolve into the night and the sun bury itself in the trees that lined the roads of the freeway. Castiel smiled as a sign located just off the grass came into view, white and faded with the state's bird, a cardinal, that read: "Virginia Welcomes You".

Castiel parked his vintage, tan pimp in front of the motel entrance and was soon heading inside to rent a room. He was given his key and headed toward the stairs. He found his room and began to unpack some of his things from his small bag on the creaky wooden table at the back of the room where the kitchen, and bathroom, also were. The motel had been rather cozy, to begin with, with its cream walls and wood floors, and now that Castiel was in his room, he felt more comfortable to kick off his shoes and peeled his trench coat from his stiff body. Without hesitation, he crawled into the queen sized bed in the middle of the room and dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

Castiel woke at the sound of silence. He sat up off his sheets and tossed his legs to the floor, rubbing his eyes as he began to stand. He glanced at the digital clock on the dresser by his side. The sequence of numbers read 05:37 a.m. Soon the man was throwing his coat back on and slipping his shoes onto his feet. As his hands twisted the rusted knob of the motel room door, his stomach rumbled beneath his skin. Castiel frowned and quickly opened the door, entering the cool morning air of Quantico.

Once again Castiel was back on the road to the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI. Not many people were seen in the city in this weather, but Castiel was still surprised when he saw not a shadow of any living person anywhere in sight. The lights of most of the shops were out and there were very few cars parked along the sidewalks. The man had never felt so alone. He had always been accompanied by one if not both of the Winchester brothers. Now, now he had been alone, and that made the ex- angel's heart churn. Though the silence surrounding him was as heavy as the winter air, he dared not to disturb it. It comforted him in a way. The streets soon became more packed as the clock struck six. Cars drove along the blanketed roads and street lights seemed to become brighter. Castiel let out a breath of disappointment when city noise began to tear at the thick silence. He continued to drive.

"Good morning, I'm officer Adams from the Maine Police Academy," Castiel held up his phony badge and smiled at the clerk, "I called here a couple of days ago for the shadowing."

"Oh yes, Mr. Adams, you're here for the student interventions, right this way." The clerk stood and began to lead the man into a crowded hall. Castiel quickly followed behind. It seemed the deeper into the building he got, the quieter it became. The halls became duller and the clicking of their steps was much more intimidating. The clerk continued to lead the officer down many halls and soon entered one with very few voices echoing from behind pale walls. The clerk looked over her shoulder a few times at the man and smiled, flushing a bit, before turning away. They soon passed many open doors where, the ex-angel could only assume, classes were in session. Castiel had seen the signs that read "Academy" before entering. He peered into a few of the rooms; they contained one teacher who would stand in the front of the room just across the entrance with crime scenes projected onto the wall behind them. There was one room that Castiel had noticed was empty, though he didn't mind it too much. 

"Hey, Chief." the clerk called as she knocked on the frame of the open door, "a student's here about the shadowing." Castiel stepped into the large office and offered a smile to the man at the desk. The man looked up and smiled back.

"Ah yes," the man stood up from his desk, abandoning some paperwork which he must have previously been given, and held out his hand to the other man. "I'm Jack Crawford, I'm glad you took interest in the B.A.U and I must say; it's a pleasure to have you here with us." Castiel took the man's dark hand in his.

"Just wanted to further understand what goes on here at the B.A.U, I've heard many things," Castiel nodded and looked around at the office, "will we be starting soon?" Crawford pulled away from the handshake and unmistakably showed the clerk away playfully.

"Yes, of course." Jack placed his hand on Castiel's shoulder and began to lead him out of his office. "We'll begin with the forensics lab, yes?" Castiel nodded and agreed. Soon, they were traveling back down the bare halls and through the rest of the building.

"This is our lead forensics team: these two gentlemen are James Price and Brian Zeller, and that young lady is Beverly Katz. Gang, this is Colton Adams, he's a former student at the Maine police academy and will be shadowing me this morning." Crawford had led Castiel into what seemed like a whole other building and was now surrounded by sleek machinery and foreign technology as well as many people dressed in white. One of the two men, light haired and older, leaned over the silver table in front of them and held out his latex gloved hand. 

"I'm James, but you can call me Jimmy." Castiel shook his hand and looked over at the other who had also offered to shake his hand, in which he gladly did so. 

"You're Mr. Zeller," Castiel assumed.

"Right you are!" Zeller said rather enthusiastically, "And call me Brian." Castiel made a mental note that it was alright to address these kind people by their first names.

"Nice to be meeting with ya," The olive skinned woman cocked her head and smiled, Castiel nodded back and looked to Jack.

"Now that we've been formally introduced to each other," Jack began as he glanced over at the two men behind the table, "Could you two explain to this gentleman a bit of what we do here at the B.A.U."

"Of course!" Jimmy and Brian said in unison, glanced at one another, and then let out a small chuckle. Both of the men began to talk about the main cases of deaths that they've encountered while working at the BAU and even introduced how some of the equipment worked. Beverly also budded some of the time to clear up some of the playful slang that Jimmy and Brain used. Castiel asked more than a few questions and he received all the answers. He had never felt so uplifted in the company of people he had only met that morning. Later that day, Jack had led them into many other sections of the station, exploring so many wonderful positions of authority and guidance. He could have only wished that Sam and Dean were to have been there as well.

"This is all so very insightful," Castiel laughed as he followed Jack down a familiar corridor, "This is truly an amazing experience. I have never been exposed to so much knowledge and been welcomed by so many kind people." Jack looked over the square of his shoulder and smiled at Castiel.

"I'm glad to hear that." 

Castiel smiled at the man's words as they continued to head down the corridor. There was a comfortable silence in the air, but Castiel could sense something else. Something gloomy. Just then, a man stumbled out of one of the entrances to a classroom: he had shaggy brown hair and a pair of eyeglasses sinking low on his nose. He looked troubled. Castiel could see the faint glisten in his eyes as if he had just woken up from a terrible night of sleep. Jack's cheeks were pushed by his lips as they formed a large grin. 

"Mr. Graham," he called and the man turned and frowned. "I didn't expect to see you here this afternoon, I thought you had already left." The man, Mr. Graham, stammered a bit before sliding his hand across his mouth and carding his slender fingers through his hair.

"Well, I had come to pick up some items I left in my classroom." Mr. Graham sighed and then glanced to Castiel, his dull blue eyes never meeting the ex- angel's own. "Who–uh, who–who is that–this? Who is he?" 

"I'm Colton—"

"This is a former student from the Maine Police Academy," Jack cut in, "he's been shadowing me all morning. He was just about to take his leave, but since we bumped into you, you gentleman might as well introduce yourselves." Jack looked to Mr. Graham.

"Alright," Castiel began, "I am Colton Adams." Mr, Graham offered his hand as Castiel tried to catch his eyes, but his gaze was focused on his own hand.

"I'm Will Graham," he replied and his muscles tensed as Castiel gestured to take his hand. He paused, noticing how Will inhaled a shaky breath and swallowed down whatever had threatened to come out. Castiel could practically taste all the pain and discomfort emitting off of the man, like heat off of a furnace. The feeling seemed to seep out of himself and pooled on the floor where he stood and he felt as if he was sinking, Mr. Graham also being devoured by this feeling, but he had sunk so much faster than Castiel. Mr. Graham was different, and Castiel was empathic towards that, though pity was ever so close to falling into the mixture. Castiel could feel the serpent slither up his leg and coil around his stomach. It continued along the dip of his spine, its tongue could be seen out of the corner of his eye as it pulled itself across the man's collarbone. Castiel bit down on the inside of his cheek, the serpent retreating as Castiel's wet flesh began to ooze a familiar copper taste down his throat. Castiel grasped the wrist of the shy man, and with his other hand, he closed Will's hand, his fingers curling into his palm with ease.

"There is no need," Castiel almost whispered. Will let out the breath he was holding and his body slumped forward in relief. The man glanced up for a split second to meet Castiel's forgiving eyes before looking away. The feeling had disappeared and the air felt lighter. "I shall take my leave now."

Castiel cried within the walls of the motel room. The darkness crawled from under the door and through the cracks in the windows and smothered the light, it burrowed into the man's skin and fueled the blue fire of his hate. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, to break every inch of flesh his hands could come in contact with, to tear the muscle off of his bones, to bleed out all his hurt and let it soak into the sheets. The ex- angel's nails raked at his back and shoulders. He needed to feel, to know that he was human, even if he didn't want to be. He gasped as he dug the pads of his fingers into his open wounds and blood stained his hands. Soon, he was within the glaring light of the bathroom and was digging through drawers. He was too numb to continue. He pulled out a brown, square-shaped bottle and hissed as its acids drained in the ravine in his firm and bleeding flesh. Castiel, after many hours of breathing in the darkness that suffocated him, could hear the snake hiss as it crept up the headboard of the bed. Castiel tumbled into another dreamless sleep, the serpent now in the pit of his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel meets Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter, technically I have already six parts written, but haven’t continued for awhile. I'll be posting the first six, though, but I’m not sure when the rest of the story will be written. Enjoy!

[ p a r t t w o ]

The sun poured through the darkness, drowning the night in its warm light. The morning trickled down the edges of dull walls and stained the floors. Deep breaths and cold fingers parted from the sheets. Slow steps and quiet shadows. The man's gasps rippled within the sea of peace; his pale skin battered and bruised, the absurd shades of purple and blue brought out the color of his empty glass-like eyes. He trudged, once again, to the small bathroom and stepped into the running water. Warm met cool, and the torn angel was strangled by the serpent. He held his breath as the scales of the dark reptile grazed over his stomach, a trail of erect hair on his skin as the serpent traveled further up his torso. Castiel was quick to act as the serpent began to wrap around his shoulders; he whimpered as he sunk his teeth into his scarred cheek.

The crisp air came in such contact with the ex-angel, like tiny daggers into his skin. His steps left indentations in the soft white blankets of the ground and his cold breath puffed from his chapped lips. Soon he was in the protection of his pimp car and his eyes began to water, for his eyes had dried in the cold air; he shivered and his bones seemed to rattle as he started the car. It wasn't as quiet as when Castiel had first arrived for the streets were now more crowded as well as brighter. This made the man uncomfortable. He had enjoyed the gloominess of the town. Most of the ride Castiel was in a hazy state of mind. His turns were slow and his pauses were long. When he arrived at the B.A.U, it was a little after seven-ten; it was not late, but it was later than when he had arrived the week before.

"Good morning, Cole." Jack smiled as Castiel entered the man's office. He smiled back and immediately took notice of another presence in one of the leather chairs in front of Jack's desk. The unknown man turned in his seat, his burgundy eyes meeting the other man. Castiel stared back. This man, whoever he was, seemed very intrigued with who had just walked in. He gazed over Castiel, taking in every detail of the ex-angel, his smirk never fading. Castiel couldn't help but do the same. This man had a very intricate design to him. Castiel knew that he was much older than his own vessel due to the visible grays that dissolved into the rest of his already light hair. His lips were quite defined along with the bones under the lustrous tanned skin of his cheeks. His suit jacket hugged nicely at his buff arms, the folds creating such beautiful contrast with the frame of his body. He was interestingly attractive, in Castiel's opinion. 

"I see you noticed our guest, this is Doctor Hannibal Lecter. He's here to help with some of our psychoanalyzing on some of our recent cases." Jack finally said after the many minutes of admiration between the two men. Castiel merely nodded at the comment as he broke his eye contact with the doctor, though knowing that he did not bother to do the same.

"Has he also the desire to accompany our trek around the B.A.U?" Castiel questioned as he walked further into the office. Castiel peered over at Doctor Lecter and offered a shy smile, in which he kindly replied back.

"As a matter of fact," he began, "this new mention of your, you say, trek around this facility has aroused a desire to also attend. Of course, if you don't mind me intervening." Doctor Lecter gazed to Jack, who gave a look of permission.

"Well, of course, we don't mind. You were asked to be here for your assistance, it is only your right to have a knowing of where you'll be assisting."

Dr. Lecter smiled once more. "Lovely."

 

"So you are from Maine?" 

Castiel shook his head. "Actually, I am from Illinois." Of course, he tried to be as honest as he could with his new acquaintance, but some information would have to be manipulated.

"A long way from home once again, are we?" Dr. Lecter replied.

"It feels a lot farther."

"How so?"

"I haven't been back there in ten years," Castiel began, though his words didn't feel like his own, he could certainly feel the pain drawn in each syllable. "I had left my wife and daughter unexpectedly for my job. And then a few years later I am informed that my wife was murdered and my daughter was missing. She was never found."

"I see."

Castiel looked over at the man at his side and held his breath when he saw that he had been so focused on what the ex-angel had to say; his eyes displayed such fondness that it was so hard to not smile. "Your attention on me is rather flattering, but I can't help but wonder how could you ever see me as something of such import."

The doctor came to an expected halt before he frowned in thought. Castiel allowed the man to think, or that is what he assumes the man is doing. His eyes began to dilate when Lecter's eyes met Castiel's. His lips curled and he simply responded:

"You are very intriguing; charming, it's difficult to resist not appreciating in some way." 

Castiel exhaled a shaky breath.

How was he supposed to react? Castiel had noticed that many people had found him rather becoming, but he had never been told in such a way it made his stomach flutter with an alien feeling. He had felt this way only once before. It has been so long Castiel nearly forgot about that conversation he had. He had been allowed to get to know Dean Winchester. They were in a park, him and Dean, sitting on benches just beyond a playground where children played. Castiel had told Dean how much he had trusted his actions, how he was too lost to figure it out for himself anyway. He had opened up to the brother, and he had listened. The feeling had spread its wings and waved away all his anger and disappointment. He knew what Dean was thinking when he had spoken. His true colors. They weren't bright, but they were beautiful. Just like now. 

Hannibal smiled and walked ahead, leaving Castiel in awe of his words. "I look forward to becoming friends very soon."

The ex- angel's lips curled. "Likewise."

Castiel trotted down the hall and passed the clerk, who he later found her name to be Kayla before he pushed open the entrance doors. He climbed into his pimp and pulled out his phone from his coat pocket. He turned on the device and stared into the lock screen. He smiled a bit and his eyes began to water. He cried as he looked into familiar eyes. The three men smiled in each other's presence. Two brothers and their best friend. A tear fell onto the screen, blurring the faces of the men. Castiel's chest ached as if someone had pried open his rib cage and grabbed hold of his heart. His grief stained his cheeks and the snake made its way around his arm as Castiel pulled out of the parking lot of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

The man sat restlessly in his seat, his stomach churning at the smell of roasted honey and fresh dough. It was Wednesday afternoon and Castiel had the desire to better his knowledge of Quantico. He had passed many restaurants and coffee shops as he strode down the sidewalks of the town. Though, he had noticed this small bakery, on the corner of an empty street. His curiosity had gotten the better of him and he made his way into the bakery. Now, he was waiting patiently in his wooden chair in front of a wood table just across from the large open window by the entrance that had a bell that rang when the door would open, and he tapped his fingers on the table top. After finishing his second honey glazed crescent and a mug of black coffee, he pulled out his wallet and left some bills on the table before he left. 

 

The sun began to set as he walked out of yet another shop with two shopping bags in his hands. He made his way back to his motel and laid out his new outfits onto his neatly made bed. He had already decided he would stay in Quantico, he might as well have made himself comfortable in the town. He had purchased two button-down shirts, one a dark blue and the other black, as well as a pair of black slacks, a new belt, socks, boxers, and two ties, black and maroon. He folded his clothing and placed them away before dressing out of his clothes and crawling into bed with nothing but his boxers on. He was much too tired to shower that night and made a note to do so the next morning.

As night settled in the town, Castiel dreamt of the taste of blood, the smell of skin, and the sound of screams. And the serpent watched from under the covers, never leaving its place in the belly of this beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I told you that everyone likes Castiel. Leave kudos and share!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham meets Dr. Hannibal Lecter, but is interrupted by Castiel. Castiel meets Alana Bloom, and is also invited to dinner by Dr. Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the third part, and I hope you enjoy!

[ p a r t t h r e e ]

Castiel smiled as he walked into Jack's office to see Dr. Lecter. And another person by his side. It was Will. He stood up from the seat next to Lecter and spun on his heel. He paused when his eyes met Castiel's, they softened and his stance loosened. Lecter also began to stand, his attention on Will, before it reverted to Castiel. Silence hung in the air and became thicker by the minute. 

"Did I come at a bad time?" Castiel asked as he began to step out of the office. The most he could do was leave before another argument arose, or worse. 

"No, of course not," Will began and glared over his shoulder to the doctor. "I was just leaving. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give a lecture on psychoanalyzing."

"Maybe we shouldn’t poke him like that, Doctor," Jack began as he slipped past Castiel and into the hallway where he disappeared around the corner. "Perhaps a less, uh, direct approach." 

"My sincerest apologies," Castiel cried as his gaze followed down the empty hall. Just before he even had the thought to go after the other man, a hand gripped his shoulder. Castiel immediately jerked away and nearly choked on his gasp. His muscles tightened around his bones and his fingers stiffened. The action had been so subtle, Lecter had not expected Castiel to react in such a way. The ex-angel stared at the doctor's hand as if it held a weapon and he had sliced into Castiel's personal space.

"Colton, are you—"

"I'm sorry." Castiel swallowed hard before he loosened his stance. He dared not to make eye contact with Dr. Lecter. He couldn't see. Not now. Not ever. "I–I can't be here," he whispered and turned his back to the men, "I'll be outside." And with that, he left.

 

Castiel hadn't gotten too far. He sat outside the Behavioral Analysis Unit, his back to the building. He had watched as the clouds in the sky slowly drifted east. The gradient had been rather beautiful: the indigo slowly dissolving from pale blue to hues of orange from just behind the trees. The birds sang softly and the crickets hummed. It was a cool morning, merely half-passed six. His breath blew white as he let out a sigh. The clicking of heels could be heard approaching. Castiel didn't bother to turn and soon a woman sat beside him. Castiel just watched the sky.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The woman asked, her voice smooth but tired. Castiel gave a nod and glanced down at his hands. "I'm Dr. Alana Bloom." She introduced, still Castiel turn up and watched the sky.

"Officer Colton Adams."

"So you're the one everyone's been talking about?" She chuckled a bit. He could feel her gaze on him. He hummed a bit. Was he really some part of the other's conversations?

"Really," he replied. He finally turned to her, he was met by a bright blue pair of tired eyes. She smiled at the contact and nodded. He looked away. "How so?"

"You've met Will?" 

Castiel smiled a bit. "Of course."

"Jack was flabbergasted by how you seemed to calm Will so easily, giving it was you first time ever meeting him."

"He looked troubled," Castiel had said, "it was the least I could do."

"And Dr. Lecter?" Ms. Bloom began, "What's your relationship with him?" Castiel's hands became clammy. 

"We're merely acquaintances." 

"Aren't well all." Castiel took note of the hesitance behind her words. "What are you doing out here, alone?"

"Will Graham is an odd being," Castiel said ignoring the woman's question, the sun now climbing over the trees, its warm light flooding the parking lot. A heavy tension arose between Dr. Bloom and Castiel, right as he said Will Graham. "And for that, I empathize him in a way."

"He's very empathetic," Dr. Bloom began, "That's why he's so special to Jack Crawford."

"I've heard about him all around the Bureau." Castiel began to recalled the voices and what they had said. Will Graham is unstable. Will Graham is crazy. Will Graham is a hero. Will Graham. Will Graham. He was tired of the name. "Can he really depict the actions of psychopathic criminals in such a way it's as if he was the one to be committing the crime?"

Bloom nodded. "He's not crazy," she stated.

"I never said he was." Castiel replied. "He's just not very stable, is he?" He questioned and looked to the woman. She sighed and pushed a stand of dark hair behind her ear. 

"He's upset?" She asked more than answered.

"Because of Dr. Lecter." Castiel answered more than asked.

"He needs him," she explained. "Jack knows he's the only one who won't tip over his bowl of sanity."

"He's fragile," Castiel said. "He needn't be broken."

"He saves lives, but he's blatantly ignoring the consequences of using his ability."

"You say that as if what he has is a gift."

"So what if it is?"

"Believe me." Castiel stood up from the steps of the B.A.U and dusted off his slacks. He sent a gaze of pity to the women sitting next to him. "It's far from it."

 

Castiel made his way back inside the facility and was walking the quiet halls. His mind wandered. He felt very insecure. Why did it bother him so that Dr. Lecter had put a hand on him? His wounds became sore at the thought. The many stitches he applies everyday slowly outnumber the many that were healed. He couldn't let them know. One reckless, or even slightly careless, move and the veil could have fallen. His body ached, but he kept walking. The many steps he took calmed him. It reminded him of the tapping of rain on a cool evening when he was back on the road to this place. He had parked his pimp, and made his bed in the back seat. He didn't sleep much, but he did not feel restless at the time. His heart would beat and his breath would fog up the windows. The car was cool for the vent allowed the fresh air to cycle through the ex-angels lungs as he watched the drops of water race across the glass. The thunder rumbled and lightning would strike in the distance, but it never scared him. In fact, it was the first time he had ever felt safe in his loneliness in a long time. 

He rounded a corner and paused. There stood Dr. Hannibal Lecter with his three pieces suit ironed as nice as ever and his face a blank as the walls that surrounded them. A smile tugged at his lips and he approached Castiel.

"Colton," he had said, "are you alright? I apologize if I startled you this morning. I shouldn't have place my hands on you. It was very unprofessional of me."

Castiel scanned the man in front of him. Kind smile, emotionless eyes. All together his expression chilled Castiel to the bone. "I forgive you."

"Perhaps, as a more passionate sign of apology, you don't mind joining me for diner this evening? My place." Hannibal grinned, "I will be cooking, of course."

"Of course." Was all Castiel could say. 

"Lovely."

Lovely indeed, Castiel thought. This man was all and utterly a mystery. As soon as you think you know him, he's changed. This was the first change Castiel noticed, and it cracked his trust for him. Hannibal Lecter was different, just like Will Graham and himself. But how?

 

"Lovely," Dr. Lecter had said when he opened his door to see Castiel standing there, a bottle of wine in his hands. 

"I saw it fitting to bring the wine." Castiel forced a smile. "This is one of my favorites."

Hannibal smiled back and took the bottle in his hands. His lips curled impressively. "Come in, will you?"

Castiel nodded and stepped inside the home. A sudden wave of heat flooded over him and drowned him. It was subtle, but noticeable. He was calmed by it. Dr. Lecter's home was just like his suit: it was designed to fit him in every possible way. Castiel's steps echoed off the in the large space. The rooms were wide and the ceilings were tall, the curtains of the windows were drawn closed and the walls were beautifully colored. Warm grays and cool reds, dark browns and light blacks. The home had a very welcomingly gloom that's hung like the golden chandeliers. Castiel felt as if he were to stand in a place too long he would dissolve into the shadows before the lights could save him. Dr. Lecter stepped in front of Castiel and gave him the unspoken gesture to enter another large room. 

This room wasn't as warm as the others. Browns and grays, and greens from the house plants growing across some of the walls. A long table stood in the middle of the room, decorated in such exquisite centre pieces and blooming bouquets as well as foreign entrées accessorize with cooked vegetables. The smell of the food had struck him. He stood in awe at the dinner table. Castiel was not the type to go out to eat at fancy restaurants, but Jimmy was; him and his family. Castiel's wounds began to sore again. He could feel Dr. Lecter's grin at his back as Castiel went around and took his seat, in which Dr. Lecter had quickly placed down the wine bottle and made his way to him pulling out the chair. 

"Hope you like lamb," Dr. Lecter teased as he left Castiel in the room to soon returned with some cutlery. He approached the meat and took his time gathering the food onto a plate in which he placed in front of Castiel. "It's a special recipe that my uncle enjoyed very much when I was a boy." 

"A very delectable meal you've prepared," Castiel replied as he watched Lecter remove the cork from the bottle he had brought and poured Castiel a glass. He grinned. "Thank you."

"Of course, I'll cook for anyone who wishes me to do so."

"I didn't," Castiel remarked. "Very kind gesture, of course. I am highly appreciative."

Dr. Lecter placed a plate at his seat as well as poured himself a glass of wine before he pulled out his chair, unfasten the one button of his jacket, and sat down. Castiel couldn't help but marvel at his elegance. "Tell me, how long has it been since you've had a meal of such standards?"

"This is the first." Castiel replied.

"I feel honored." He grinned, taking a piece of meat onto his fork and placing it to his lips before closing his eyes and biting the meat off. 

Castiel did the same, a rather embarrassing noise of pleasure escaped his mouth. It was truly delicious. Never in his life as a human had he ever been exposed to such edible perfection. He flushed a bit and took a sip of his wine. He looked up to see a mischievous look in Dr. Lecter's maroon eyes.

"Dr. Lecter, this is—"

"Please," he assured, "Call me Hannibal."

Castiel smiled. "Hannibal, this is the best meal I have had in my entire life," he claimed. "God only knows what would happen to me if I died never knowing what true perfection was."

"Of course not. He would only know what happens if you did," Hannibal replied. Castiel pondered in his words. He was not a man of god, but neither was Castiel. 

Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is just so flirtatious around Castiel, my goodness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel remembers Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is quite a lot of violent content in this one, and Castiel interacts sexually with both Sam and Dean, so if you don’t like that, then don’t read — though this chapter does explain why Castiel is no longer with Sam and Dean. Enjoy!

[ p a r t f o u r ]

Hunger boiled inside him.

Castiel had woken to the growls of his stomach. He was an angel, he couldn't feel hunger, but this hunger was painful to bare. He dug his clammy hands into the leather of the car seats. His tongue grazed his teeth and he closed his eyes to the smell of skin. It was agonizing. The car was parked in front of a small diner, and Dean had gotten down to order the usual. Castiel knew that something was wrong. His spine sizzled when the car door opened and Dean hopped inside. Castiel concealed a gasp as the car shook a bit. His muscles tensed and his chest burned. His lips parted and he inhaled cold air. Dean looked over his shoulder, tossing a burger at the man by his side, who was asleep. His gaze returned to the angel and his brows furrowed.

"Cas, buddy, 'you alright?" Dean placed the food down and twisted his body to face Castiel. "Sam," Dean called and smacked his brother's shoulder. He jumped awake and pulled gun out from his side. Sam groaned and followed Dean's worried stare.

"So. . ." Castiel trailed. "Famished."

"Cas? Cas!" Their faces blurred and Castiel's eyelids fluttered closed.

 

What do we do?

We should take him to a hospital.

We can't do that and you know it.

What other options do we have? He's been out for days.

 

Castiel stirred awake. His eyes peeled open and he gnawed the skin of his cheek. The sheets crinkled as he began to sit up. He looked around, trying to spot the source of the voices, and when he saw that no one was in sight he climbed out of the bed he laid on. His legs wobbled a bit as he stood and he desperately grasped the bed post. Large gulps of air filled his lungs so quickly that he nearly choked. He stood bent there for a moment to catch his breath. The atmosphere was so sharp: the lights were highly saturated and the room reeked of old paper. Castiel had never felt so connected to his environment. He could feel the dust particles on his skin and hear every slight vibration that surrounded him; he could taste the bitterness of his saliva and smell the sweetness of a familiar home. He closed his eyes and smiled. His body felt reborn.

He made his way into the bunker halls and dragged his fingers across the walls as he traveled further into the darkness of the shadows. His eyes easily reverted his sight and everything grew brighter. His satisfaction pulled at the corners of his mouth once again. Castiel paused as footsteps tapped against the wood floors somewhere in the distance. He followed the sounds into a lounging area where a tall man sat and another paced. Castiel gasped. His stomach constricted and a feeling tugged at his ribs, slipping their fingers across his chest and stabbed at his spine. His mouth water at the smell of warm skin. The angel began to wobble as he walked toward the men. One of them turning and calling in words that Castiel couldn't understand; his heart thumped too hard against his chest to hear.

"Cas!" Dean cried and caught Castiel before he hit the floor. "Oh God, Sam!" The tall one hurried quickly to gather the angel. They placed him on one of the couches. Dean leaned in and searched Castiel's eyes. They were foggy. 

"What do we do?"

"We should take him to the hospital."

"We can't do that and you know it." Dean argued and held at the angel's shoulders.

"What other options do we have? He's been out for days."

Castiel groaned and his eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. Dean smelled so raw. It was gorgeous. "Dean," he began. "The witch. . . I can feel her." Castiel whimpered when the man pulled away. Again he began to shout, but the words were muffled. That smell. That smell made the angel's stomach clenched in hunger. His head pounded when he opened his eyes to see that Dean was once again gripping his shoulders, holding Castiel erect as the other man ran out of the room.

"Cas, buddy, look at me." Dean shook his head and lifted his hand to Castiel's forehead. "Dammit Cas, you're burnin' up."

"I–I need that taste." Castiel mumbled. Dean pulled back a bit as the angel lifted his gaze to his green one. His pupils were blown. 

"Cas?" Castiel smiled at the man's voice, so smooth and so hypnotic. His is gaze was held at the man's lips: they were so red, so plump. Would it hurt too much to take them between his teeth, to suck on them until they drained of their color? Would it be wrong if he just consumed the beauty of this man? Castiel leaned forward, gliding his tongue across his teeth. Just one little taste. "Cas." Their lips collided. Castiel could feel his hunger boil inside him with every touch. His tongue slipped into the man's mouth and made its self known to every inch. Dean groaned and pushed at the angel's chest.

"Cas–" Dean whimpered as Castiel mouthed at his lips and chewed at them. "Please, this isn't you." Castiel pulled away and licked at the corner of his mouth. 

"Of course it is," the angel growled and pushed his face to the side to gain access to more skin. He trailed wet kisses along his throat and sucked at his flesh until it reddened. Dean grunted as he attempted to shoved Castiel off, but his strength over powered the man. Castiel smiled as the scent of blood grew stronger. He closed his eyes and bared his teeth, slowly sinking them into the man's flesh as he bellowed for release.

"Castiel! Please!" Blood pooled into the angel mouth and his body set fire. His hands dug into Dean, bruising and then breaking his skin. Blood spilled between Castiel's fingers and he sunk his hands deeper into the tender meat. Dean screamed as the angel pulled, his fingers curling inside of the man. It was so warm and so soothing knowing what this man really felt like under all his sorrow and pride.

"You taste so good," Castiel hummed as his tongue slither across his chest and bit down at his collarbone, more blood flooding his mouth and staining his face.

How could something so unmistakably evil blind the concept of right versus wrong? This was not good, but did it feel good. The screaming died down to just gurgling and moans, just after he had mumbled an unforgettable three-word phrase. Castiel's hands began to tear the flesh and dig his hands deeper. It was so easy, so natural. A beast had taken over, but this beast merely watched. It was the angel who continued to rip. His fingers scratched at the man's bowels and swallowed torn flesh. The hunger grew and soon Castiel pried open the ribs, smiling at the sounds of cracking bones. His fingers wrapped around Dean's slowly beating heart, and kissed his lungs. This man bared a constant broken heart, but this heart wasn't broken. It was ripe and tender. The angel grinned and began to eviscerate the remaining organs. Bit by bit, Castiel ate all of the man's vitals. He couldn't help but caress Dean's freckled flesh before he consumed it. His savage hunger ceased, yet Castiel was not finished. The urge devoured him and the thrill made the blood coursing through his veins boil. He needed more.

"Dean? Cas?" Hesitant steps echoed in the silent bunker. Castiel had abandoned the body and followed Sam's voice. He had watched the man circle the couch and heard him cry out at the sight of his brother's glassy eyes and bleeding, mangled body. Castiel hid in the hall and crept along the walls toward Sam. Before he could reveal himself, Castiel turned back and disappeared into another room. He locked the door and removed his trench coat and his blazer. He slipped his belt out from his pants and placed it in his mouth. He had to make it look convincing. With that, Castiel reached over himself and gripped his shoulder blades, sinking his nails into his firm flesh. His groans muffled as he raked his nails across his back; he could feel his warm blood pour out from under the pads of his fingers and spilled down his spine.

After the many minutes of self inflicted wounds and dry tears, Castiel allowed himself to leave the room and find Sam. The man was kneeling in front of his brother when the angel found him. He kept his eyes open for a moment to make it seem as if he had shed tears. He could feel his blood begin to dry on his skin. Sam was crying; his hands were tangled with his brother's hair and his lips murmured inaudible words. "Sam." Castiel croaked as he approached the man.

Sam glanced up, his eyes widened and he smiled. "Cas!" He jumped up and leaped into the angel's arms. "What happened? Are you O.K?" Castiel pushed the tall man back a bit to reveal his bleeding form.

"It—it was someone else. . ." Castiel began. "Someone else was here, but they disappeared." Sam sighed and took the angel's arms, leading him away from the body in which he covered with a sheet.

"It's gonna be fine," Sam said and pulled him onto the meeting room table. "You should rest." He placed a hand on the Castiel's shoulder. He looked up at the man's eyes and smiled. He laid his own hand on his. "Thank you, Sam." Sam flushed a bit and allowed their fingers to lace together. Castiel pulled his hand down his waist as his other hand wrapped around his shoulder. He leaned into the man, his nose buried into the crook of his neck. Sam shuddered before he pulled the angel closer into him.

"I'm scared, Cas." Sam whispered. Castiel smiled and nodded against his shoulder. He could feel the steady heart beat of the brother in his ear, his slow pulse just inches away from his lips and it aroused that hunger again. "The witch that killed Dean just . . . vanished. How am I supposed to live without him?"

"He loved us. He wouldn't want us to give up on saving lives." Castiel slid his hand down Sam's chest and hovered over his heart. "He would want us to live on." The angel blue gaze meet the man's current hazel one. 

"I know."

Castiel inhaled the Sam's scent. Warm blood and skin, just like his brother. He parted his lips and spoke, "He'd want us to be happy."

Sam nodded and leaned into Castiel's embrace. "Oh god, I need you, Cas."

Castiel grinned. "Of course." He could feel firm hands grip his hips and pull him back. Sam slipped his hands around his waist and leaned into Castiel. He brought his hands to the man's face and cupped his hands along his jawline. Castiel licked his lips as his fingers grazed over his pulse. Fast and hot. His hunger simmered and made the hairs on his skin rise. Sam trembled as the angel's hands held him, his face leaning into his touch and his tongue glided over his lips. He canted his head, his lips connected with the angel's. Castiel smirked and slid his hand into the man's hair. They began to move as one: their hands caress each other and their tongues grazing over one another. Sam gasped a bit as Castiel's leg slipped between his own. Sam leaned further into the kiss and allowed the angel to explore his skin. His lips sucked at the man's pounding pulse, his eyes rolling back into his skull with every bump. He was completely taken over with his gluttony. His hands dug into Sam, conjuring lustful sounds from him. Castiel pulled away and trailed soft pecks that led back to the brother's lips. Sam moaned into his mouth and brought his hands to steady the dancing of their lips.

"I love you, Cas." Sam said against his lips. "I can't lose you, too."

Castiel smiled and shook his head. "Of course you can." 

Sam cried out as the angel bit down on his bottom lip, crimson spilled down the corners of his mouth. Castiel clenched his jaw as the man tried to pull away. His fingers stabbed at the Castiel's neck. Sam shoved the angel away. He screamed as his lip tore off from his mouth and hung between Castiel's teeth. He slapped a hand over his mouth and tumbled back. Castiel smiled and slipped out his tongue, taking the flesh into his throat. He hopped off the table and slid the back of his hand across his mouth. Sam whimpered as his back hit a shelf. "Oh god, please."

"God can't save you," Castiel laughed, "Not that he would try anyway." Sam grasped a candle stick; as Castiel neared he took the chance to swing. It hit across his temple with a loud crack and blood stained the base of the weapon. His head cocked back to face Sam; his blood spilled into the eye and masked his pupil and sclera. With a red and blue gaze, Castiel's eyes narrowed. The lights glared in blood. He growled and charged toward the man. Sam darted to the side and Castiel yielded from the wall. 

"Cas -- Stop!" Sam cried as he pushed himself off the floor, his stained hands held out in front of him and blood discharged from his lips. Castiel smiled and with a blink of his eyes, the lights shut off. Sam choked and he backed into the lounging room. The angel watched as the brother's eyes widen and his pupils explode. The darkness hung at the Castiel's shoulders and shoved him at Sam. His hands wrapped around his throat, the force so strong it sent the man's head to collide with the corner of a wall. There was a loud squelch and the room went silent. 

After hours of tearing the Winchester brothers apart, Castiel left. Their blood staining his body and his stomach full with their meat. The angel never imagined himself being a new father of his newborn sins. A hiss came from the darkness. With every thump of his heart Castiel could hear it come closer. Ever so slowly the slick scales of a reptile grazed the Castiel's skin. Something burned inside of him. His throat tightened, his jaw clenched, his muscles tensed. The flicker of heat grew. His body was consumed by a fire, its flames licking up every inch of flesh. This beast maimed at the angel's grace. He could feel himself drain, a swelling in his veins and a cooling of his blood ate at him. His eyes went dry and his lips ached. Every sound, smell, taste, sight, and touch grew numb. His ears rang, his nostrils burned, his teeth hallowed, his gaze blurred and his nails stabbed into his palms. He screamed, and his screams summoned a deafening silence. Another hiss echoed in the wells of this darkness. His beast grinned at his limb vessel. The serpent slithered up his neck and slipped into the shadows of his mouth. Castiel choked as the serpent clogged his throat, making its way into the den of his stomach. The death kept the beast company. He could feel his tears roll down his cheeks. He had lost. This was his punishment, the other end of his noose. After so long, it had finally happened.

He had fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Must’ve been a lot to take in. Part five will be up soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catsiel meets "Jack Crawford's crime gimp", but he isn't alone.

"CANNIBALISM," the television screamed. "The Hobbs were a family of cannibals." Castiel paused and glared up at the screen. Pictures of a family: a father, a mother, and a young girl were displayed. The man and women looked happy and the girl smiled brightly along side them.

"Poor girl." A voice said.

Castiel turned and met the gaze of one of his fellow officers. "Pardon?"

"Her father was insane," He began. "He had kidnapped all these young girls and he ate them."

"They all look like the daughter," Castiel observed.

"That's Abigail. Good thing Will Graham got there just in time; he was already holdin' a blade to the girl's throat." Castiel listened. "She's in the hospital right 'bout now. He still left her bleedin'; yeah, it's all over Tattle Crime."

Castiel cringed at the thought of how this girl is going to be treated from now on. Freddie Lounds; a name no one wants to hear around the B.A.U. Especially around Jack Crawford. Her most recent being on the famous Will Graham had him all riled up. He can't stand will happen when he sees a new article on Tattle Crime. He glanced back at the television screen. Born from a monster means you must also be a monster. However, Abigail looked innocent, vulnerable, but through this photo he could partially see through her mask. She was apart of the murders. Castiel could feel it. Her innocence had to be kept somehow. What was the point of killing the wife, though? Who found out? How? Castiel couldn't quite grasp what was wrong with the situation. All he knew was that Will Graham and Dr. Hannibal Lecter went investigating; Garret Jacob Hobbs was the man Graham had claimed to fit the profile, and together him and Lecter saved the daughter from her father. Abigail was sent to the hospital and she was currently in a coma. When she is to wake up, Graham and Lecter will be there. Castiel wanted to deny himself so badly for he knew that they would not comply with his accusations. He stood up, grabbing his books and bag, and left out of the mess hall.

"Colton," Castiel sighed and turned to Jack. "Colton, I must speak with you." Castiel tensed a bit. The urgency in Jack's voice alarmed the ex-angel.

"What is it? Is something the matter?"

"I need you to run down to the hospital where Abigail Hobbs is and report back when she wakes up."

Castiel shook his head, confusion in his features. "Why me? I am merely a student officer."

"I trust you." Jack smiled placing a police badge on his books. "Colton, I need you to stay with Abigail when she awakes. There's something fishy about her. I don't like it." He patted Castiel's back and looked around. "I'll inform you of further instructions later."

"Of course," Castiel nodded. Jack smiled once again and walked off. Relief filled Castiel lungs and seems to lift him off the ground. He wasn't the only one. With that in mind, Castiel was already heading to the hospital where Abigail Hobbs laid watching the back of her eyes.

 

 

Castiel drove up to the John Hopkins Hospital and parked. He stayed in his pimp for a while, the badge he was given thrown on the passenger's seat with the rest of his supplies. He hesitated to retrieve the badge. It seemed to mock him. It was shiny, but scratched. As soon as the badge was fastened to his shirt pocket and his assignments were collected, he stepped out of his pimp, making his way into hospital. As he stepped through the doors, Castiel immediately wanted to leave. He could feel an unwelcoming presence. There was something else lurking. Castiel breathed in heavy air. He felt cold in his clothes and tight in the skin that wrapped him. There was a looming dread that began to follow Castiel with every step he took and person he passed. He had politely asked the desk for Abigail's room and thanked the man at the desk. He walked off and continued down a long corridor. Castiel listened to all the sounds that surrounded him and heard nothing; it was as if the room was empty. The silence itched at his mind. He was in a hospital but there was no sounds. He pushed himself further. Room 408 was the room he had to find. He glanced to his side. Four o' two, three, four. The rooms were occupied with the shadow of death, and oblivious nurses.

His hands became clammy and cold as Castiel approached Abigail's room. He could see the faint shape of a body covered by sheets from just outside the door frame. He doubled checked the room's number before stepping forward. Inside, Castiel's breath was robbed from his throat. He certainly knew he was not alone, but now it was definitely that Castiel was not by himself. Will Graham laid on the small sofa just in front of the bed. He slept, his head laying in the arm of the couch, his coat at the base of his head, and a white knit blanket over his shoulders. Castiel stood for a bit merely watching the man's chest rise and fall with ever ragged breath he took. He noticed small marks on the bridge of his nose. Will Graham had worn glasses the first day Castiel met him, but he wasn't wearing them now. His eyes traveled. The coat that his head rested on looked common and worn, perhaps a hand-me-down; the coat as well as the boots and flannel all looked very over used and frayed. Castiel took a moment to gather his bearings. He noticed a chair just beside Abigail's bed; soon he sat and gazed over to the girl. Dark hair and fine complexion, just like all the victims.

Castiel slouched in his seat and unbuckled his book bag, taking out his class notes and assignments. He knew he would be there a while, the least he could do was gets some work done in the meantime. Castiel had attended an FBI academy for three years, recently concluding his first semester in his fourth, and his work had become his number one priority. His three degrees got him into the academy in the first place, so the stress had already been engraved into his skin. School had never crossed his mind, but Castiel had to keep himself busy somehow. He stopped hunting. He never wanted to hunt again; not alone, and certainly not with other hunters. But his desire to help people never faded. The human race, to him, was a whole other card in his over-shuffled game of war. He would flip a card, and humanity would always have the upper hand. Every so often a tie is stuck, and war begins. Yet, it is Castiel who wins. Now, Castiel is in the same deck as humanity, and humanity is plummeting in a constant defeat. Castiel shook his head clear of all thoughts and closed his booklet of complete assignments.

He slumped in his seat and closed his eyes. The dark settled in his skin and scratched at the front of his hands, making the inside of his ears itch. He could feel the presence of something else. It was hidden. He could hear voices. Castiel opened his eyes. He scanned the room. It was here, and it was watching. The ex-angel didn't know what it was, but the room had shifted in an angle where the shadows were darker and walls were closer. He turned over his shoulder; the door frame was farther and the halls were dimmer. Castiel glanced over to Will Graham who continued to sleep. The sheet that covered him was a more dull shade of ivory and his hair more black than the brown it had been before. A more sharp, blacker shape coated the man where his shadow should have been. It seemed to claw at his body and sink into his colours. Castiel turned away and nearly gasped at what had replaced the girl in the hospital bed. Serpents, snakes, vipers, all intertwined on the bed. Every one of them moved, gliding slowly over one another and come up back again, a continuous cycle of horror. But there was one that stood out from the rest: not larger or darker, but Castiel could feel it's distinctly dominate aura. It slithered from the large pile and across a slate of nothing, merely levitation, towards the ex-angel. The serpent began to rise and as it rose it grew larger and larger till it almost it touched the ceiling. Within a blink of an eye, it hissed and shot at Castiel. Everything went black.

 

 

_You’re the one who called the house. You talked to my dad before what did you say to him?_

_A simple conversation, ascertaining if he was home for an interview. Then why not tell the truth?_

_I think you called the house as a serial killer. Just like my dad._

_I’m nothing like your dad._

 

 

Castiel choked awake and almost tumbled over in his chair coughing. "Colton?" A voice piped. Castiel steadied his breath before meeting the eyes of Will Graham.

"My apologies," Castiel said and once again slumped in his seat. "I did not mean to wake you."

"I was already awake." Will replied and began to sit up on the couch. "What are you doing here?"

Castiel sighed and looked to the girl on the hospital bed. "I was sent over to report her waking."

"Jack?" Castiel nodded. "I see he has resorted to student officers to do his thankless tasks. Figures."

"I did question his orders when he had first given them," Castiel said. "Of course, you don't see another agent here, now do you?" Will began to chuckle a bit. Castiel glanced over and smiled. "Is something the matter?" He asked.

"I don’t think we’ve ever been alone in a room together, have we?"

Castiel paused a bit and looked away. They had met each other a couple months back, and had always seemed to see each other with Jack Crawford along side either one of them, or in Will's classroom, where Castiel mainly focused on taking notes on the professor's lectures. "I haven't noticed," he began as he gesture to Abigail, "though, we're not exactly alone."

"Yeah right. Back to 'Jack Crawford's crime gimp'." Castiel cringed at Will's words. Freddie Lounds.

"I see you have read it, too," Castiel said, "Creates quite the image... but I assume you wouldn't want to discuss it."

"No, no, we can talk about whatever you want. I actually enjoy the sound of your voice."

Puzzled, Castiel shook his head. "How so?" It was usually Castiel who's spend hours listening to 'Mr. Graham.'

"It's honest at the right times."

Castiel tensed. "Or maybe I'm a great liar," he said with a humorous tone.

"You're not a liar Colton." Castiel could hear the smile in Will's voice.

If only that were true.

 

 

Castiel couldn't sleep again that evening. Will had left only hours ago, leaving Castiel, unlike before, alone with Abigail. He watched her. Her chest would rise so slowly and steadily; almost as if it wasn't moving at all, as though she was just a shell. Without thinking, Castiel leant forward from his seat and smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. He stood and placed his hand on her neck and applied pressure to her pulse. Cool and slow, like the air conditioning that filtered into the room from hidden vents. Castiel breathed and lowered his ear to her chest, just over Abigail's heart. The beats were hypnotic. Each beat. Each breath. Both living. But not alive. Just like himself. Partially alive, partially not. Castiel brought his hand to his own heart and winced at the almost absent beat. He felt the incomplete pump of his blood and his eye lids grew heavy. He could sense the dark presence against his neck as he pulled back and fell back into his chair. This girl was coated with guilt that warmed Castiel's skin.

And when she'd wake, she would feel the warmth of his.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel helps reunite Will, Hannibal, and Abigail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that’s it’s been a while, I hope you enjoy this one!

[ p a r t s i x ]

 

"She's awake?"

"Yes, she is. Woke up a few moments ago."

"Of course, thank you, Colton. Good job." The line went dead.

Castiel placed his cellphone back into the pocket of his trench coat and turned on his foot, back into the hospital room. The nurses walked passed him out. He was greeted by the looming confusion in Abigail's features as he approached. "Hello Abigail," he said politely. "I'm Officer Colton Adams." 

She stiffened her posture and looked up from her book. "Hello." Her voice was raspy, even though the nurse left a glass of water on the nearby nightstand.

"I would ask if you feel alright," Castiel began and returned to his seat by the bed, "but there is no need for conversation if it is not necessary." Abigail sighed a bit and looked away from Castiel.

"No, that will not be necessary, but I would like to ask..."

Castiel nodded. "Of course."

"My parents," Abigail began to ask as she flipped the page in her book, "are they dead?" Castiel took note of the calmness of her tone.

He looked up at her and shook his head. "I can't tell you that."

Minutes passed and the silence had never been disturbed. There were the casual voices from down the halls and the breaths of the air vents; but either way, it was silent. Castiel, nor Abigail, moved from their places. Their eyes caught each other a few times. Her eyes were blue; dull, but they were blue. Like the birds Castiel would see when he was driving through Georgia. They would glide or flutter passed – they were never clear, always a blur; that's what Abigail's eyes looked like. Too busy fluttering or gliding away to know what she's thinking. He glanced down at her hands. They were hunter hands. The feeling of the handle of a knife was encoded in her hands. To lie was a habit. To kill was an instinct. Castiel clenched his fist and looked away. It wasn't his job to to ask questions or offer his output or to argue with others'. But he knew, she was far from innocent. She was troubled, misguided, damaged, and now her scar proves it. The clicking of heels could be heard. Castiel glanced over his shoulder and frowned. The woman walked in and smiled down at Castiel, then Abigail. 

"Colton?" Dr. Bloom questioned as she shut the door. Castiel pulled up his badge and gave a lopsided grin. She nodded. "Jack," she mumbled under her breath. "Well, do you mind if I speak to Abigail, alone?"

Castiel was about to stand; "I want him to stay," Abigail said, nervousness nor hesitation were present in her tone. The man remained his seat and looked up to Dr. Bloom.

"Of course," she complied and took her place on the end of Abigail's bed. "Hi. I'm Alana Bloom."

"Are you a doctor?"

"Not medicine," Dr. Bloom explained, "I'm a psychiatrist."

Abigail glanced to Castiel for a spilt second before refocusing her attention on the strange woman. "What do you specialize in?"

"Among other things, family trauma."

"I asked the nurses if my parents were dead." Abigail's dull eyes scanned the woman. What was she looking for? "And they wouldn't tell me." She paused. "Said I had to wait for you."

Dr. Bloom smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry you had to wait."

"I know they're dead," Abigail said. Castiel of course already knew this. But again with that tone. It irked the man. Though, he can't blame her, even if she wasn't part of her father's crimes. Blood stains were her decorations and their victims flesh was her common feast. Death befriends, and Abigail had been friends with Death for a while now. 

"Who buried them?" She pressed. Dr. Bloom held her posture at the question. 

"They haven't been buried." Don't you think—

"Don't you think they should be?" Abigail asked.

Dr. Bloom sighed. "Your mother was cremated per the instructions in her living will." She clears her throat.

Abigail slightly nodded. "My dad?" Castiel frowned. What else could they police have possibly done with him? Abigail could only ask willingly.

"Your father is more complicated." And Alana Bloom could only answer fittingly.

"Because he was crazy?"

"The nurses said you didn't remember."

"I remember." Abigail looked back to Castiel and blinked slowly. "I just didn't want to talk to them about it." 

She looked back to the woman at her feet. "I want to sell the house," she stated. "I guess it's mine now. I can use the money for college, get an apartment."

Abigail gestured to the woman's arms. "What are all those?" Castiel looked at the items Dr. Bloom was holding. He hadn't even noticed, he just heard the clicks of her heels and the smooth sound of her voice.

"I brought you some clothes. Thought a change might feel good." Dr. Bloom looked down at the items. "I guessed your size, so anything you don’t want, leave the tags on, I’ll bring it back." Abigail stayed quiet. "And I brought you some music too."

"Your music?"

"If there isn’t anything you like, I’ve got a stack of iTunes gift cards. I--I’ve got a stack of gift cards. I don’t do well redeeming gift cards."

"Probably says something about you,” Castiel said. Both looked to him speculatively. 

Dr. Bloom's twitched into a uncomfortable smile. "Probably does."

Castiel and Abigail sat in silence within their room. She had shuffled through some of the clothes given to her, and Castiel watched, but nothing ever fazed her. She attempted to crawl off the bed, resulting in almost falling. Castiel, politely and in a respectful manner, helped Abigail off the bed. She wobbled for a bit before she took a few steps, Castiel still assisting her. She mumbled a few thanks and apologizes, and she grabbed some clothes, walking to the bathroom, her pink robe tied loose around her waist. She came out later, still in her hospital gown and faded pink robe, and placed the clothes in two piles. Castiel could only assumed one was for clothes she like and the other for clothes that she didn't or just didn't fit.

"Many scarves?" Castiel said. Abigail looked to Castiel, a blank expression on her face. 

She simply nodded. "I never liked scarves, but it's seems I don't really have a choice."

"Well, of course you do," Castiel replied. "Hide, or show off." He smirked a bit. 

Abigail nodded. "I don't like showing off."

"Me neither."

Abigail smiled as she crawled back into the bed. "What are you?" She asked. 

Castiel shrugged. "I'm a student officer."

"Student officer?" She echoed. "I mean no offense but shouldn't an actual officer be in your place? Not that I don't mind your presence."

"Yes," he replied, stood up, and gathered some of his things. "There should, and I'm glad to hear that, but I must be taking my leave now."

Castiel paused. He heard a sound, and felt the vibrations under his own feet. Heels. Castiel swallowed as he placed down his things quietly. Abigail noticed. She just watched as he walked to the door, though never opening it. Castiel ran his fingers across the hard, blue-painted wood and tapped quietly. No echo. He looked down at the turning knob and swiftly stepped back. The door creaked open and a head of fiery red hair poked through. She looked up to Castiel, with her sharp lips pursed and her blue eyes narrow.

"Who may you be?" Her calm tone was completely forced.

"I must ask you the same," Castiel replied.

The woman glared down at the badge on his shirt. "So they were right," she spoke.

"Excuse me?"

"She is a suspect."

Castiel clenched his jaw. "Who are you?"

She held out her gloved hand and smiled coldly. "Fredricka Lounds. You can call me Freddie." 

He took Freddie's hands and shook it firmly. "What are you doing here, Freddie Lounds."

"My job," she spat. Freddie glanced over to Abigail on the bed. "Hello, I'm Freddie Lounds."

Abigail stared at her skeptically, and her hands grasped each other. "So you’re not a doctor, a nurse, or a psychiatrist."

"I’m a journalist," Freddie began as she glared to Castiel. "I want to tell the truth. Your truth," she focused her attention back on Abigail. "Sometimes that involves some deception, but know this: I will never lie to you."

"Sounds like something a liar would say," Castiel spoke. Abigail's eyes reverted to the man, a fearful twinkle in her eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek and began to exit the room.

He began to dial a trusted number and placed the phone to his ear. "Officer Colton Adams," Castiel looked back at the now closed door of Abigail's room. "She showed up."

Castiel tapped at the wall he leant against patiently. He could hear everything Freddie Lounds was saying to Abigail, and with every word he was ever so much closer to barging through the door and throwing her out himself. He tapped his fingers steadily.

"Where is she?" A voice could be heard calling from down the hall. "I need to know; now would be great." Will Graham.

Castiel pushed himself off the walls and began to head over to his voice, soon breaking into a jog. He turned around the corner. "Will Graham?" Castiel called. 

A pair of glasses and angry eyes looked to him. "Colton." Will rolled his head and shoved away from the front counter. He was soon by Castiel's side as they headed back down to room 408. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to see Hannibal.

"Hannibal?" Castiel questioned as he approached them. He smiled to Castiel as Will took off, leaving the two men merely strides behind. "I see he was, after all, appointed for such authority."

"Dr. Bloom insisted the idea to Jack," Hannibal replied and they stepped inside of room.

"Would you excuse us, please?" Will asked firmly. "Special Agent Will Graham." He looked to the women in the room, furiously.

"By Special Agent he means not really an agent," Freddie snapped back. She smiled down at Abigail. "He didn’t get past the screening process. Too unstable." Castiel could feel the blood in his veins boil and the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

Hannibal glanced to Will, noticing the distress in his eyes. "I really must insist you leave the room," he glared to Freddie. 

She seemed to comply. "If you wanna talk." She pulled a card from her handbag, beginning to offer it to Abigail, but Will quickly reached to snatch it from her, and placed it inside his jacket. And with that, Freddie exited the room.

"Abigail," Will began. "This is Dr. Lecter. And I'm sure you've met Colton. Do you remember us?"

Abigail nodded to both of the things he had said. "I remember you," she replied. "You killed my dad."

Will tensed and Castiel made his way in front of him, looking to him cautiously. He looked up to the ex-angel with tired eyes before looking away.

Hannibal stepped forward. "You've been in bed for days, Abigail. Why don't we have a walk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last officially written chapter. I just lack the to come back to this fic but maybe someday I’ll come back to it. I hope you’ve enjoyed! Till then.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the interactions with a Castiel, and cried because he’s definitely not okay! Leave kudos and share!


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